


The Burdens We Carry

by holy diver (swirlingabyss)



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Aymeric's home cooking, Dancing, Dinner, Dragoon Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), F/M, Fade to Black, Family Bonding, Found Family, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Ishgard (Final Fantasy XIV), Jealousy, Kissing, Named Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), One Shot, Party, Pining, Quiet, Requited Love, Romance, Self-Reflection, Slice of Life, Snow, Spoilers, Team as Family, Vacation, Viera Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:55:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27783325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swirlingabyss/pseuds/holy%20diver
Summary: Post 5.3. The Warrior of Light decides to retire to Ishgard for a while to take to some much-needed rest. While there, she rekindles her bonds with House Fortemps, and unwittingly forges a romance with Aymeric de Borel. Alisaie is not terribly pleased with this development. Possibly just a long-winded love letter to Heavensward. Definitely an excuse to have my Warrior of Light shag Ser Aymeric. Lots and lots of quiet familial bonding in-between.This was the wonderful part about Ishgard. For all its failings, it managed to feel like home. As if there were value in simply her, the person, not the Warrior of Light. It was why she chose to rest here, and why she thought she might actually manage to relax for once.
Relationships: Aymeric de Borel/Warrior of Light, Haurchefant Greystone/Warrior of Light
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	The Burdens We Carry

**Author's Note:**

> If you actually clicked into this self-indulgent nonsense for some reason, a little bit of background on this rendition of the Warrior of Light: She is Viera who chose leave to leave her home behind to come to Eorzea. Her main class is Dragoon, though you will also find references to the Dark Knight quests. He surname is intentionally not mentioned because I have a little bit of shame or something. I don't know. There was originally going to be some Estinien as well but it's already super long and I'm very tired. Maybe next time.

A biting chill hung in the air, an unforgiving cold that caused even the native Ishgardians to hug their coats closer, pulling down on their hats and shuffling to their destinations as quickly proper decorum would allow them. One lone figure, seemingly accustomed to harsh winter, kept their steps deliberate, a contented smile across their face, seemingly embracing the wind as though it were an old friend. To anyone observing, she walked with calm and purpose, a sense of belonging, and her light blue alpine coat and white thighboots would have looked at home on any member of the nobility. Yet one detail identified her as an outsider: long brown leoprine ears, giving a faint twitch against the prickling wind. 

Whispers accompanied her footsteps, but as she approached her destination, the imposing manor flying the sigil of the unicorn, the guards didn't blink at her presence, nor bar her entry. As she stepped into the foyer, the elderly head steward gave a sweeping, elegant bow. 

"Welcome home, mistress." 

She was somewhat taken aback, but her features eased into a wry smile. "I do not believe I'll ever grow accustomed to that," she admitted. A treatment at Artoirel's behest, she had once been told, and she had not the heart to deny it. "Still, 'tis good be back." 

A sentiment shared, evidently. As she was escorted into the drawing room, she was greeted with warm enthusiasm. "Lady Alexandria," cried Edmont. "How wonderful to see you again." She nodded, beaming with the same sentiments, and he continued. "I was quite surprised when I received your letter, but full glad am I that you've decided to take up our offer of hospitality. Fortemps Manor is ever yours, should you feel the need for respite." 

"Of course," she nodded, still smiling. "Mine apologies for the imposition, Lord Edmont." The title felt awkward around her lips, used to addressing him as Count as she was, but she knew full well he would insist otherwise, were she to use it. 

Though it seemed Artoirel had some protestations of his own. "Surely House Fortemp's greatest friend and ally is beyond the need of thinking herself a burden," he chided, and his father nodded in agreement. "These halls have felt ever emptier without your presence." 

"Thank you, Count Artoirel," she teased, knowing how he hated that title. 

And indeed, he seemed ready to sternly chide its use, were it not for the faint laughter breaking her normally serene expression. He sighed, somewhat defeated by her dig at his own predictability. "Were I in the habit of using such antiquated titles, I would never ask my dear sister to address me as such," he informed her instead. 

"Very well," Alexandria agreed. It would not do to ruffle his feathers too much. "Is Lord Emmanellain not present?" she asked. 'Twould not be a full reunion without the full family present, after all. 

"Business at Camp Dragonhead," Count Edmont informed her, "though I suspect you'll see him by dinner." There was a tired tone to it, and it was not difficult to see why. Even in turning a new leaf, it was all too easy to imagine the young lord shirking his duties to come visit at his earliest opportunity. "But come, let us see you to your room. You've come to rest, and rest you shall." 

Though typically a job best left to a servant, Edmont escorted her himself, helping her unburden her belongings, and tossing another log to the fire prepared in her chamber that she might warm herself for a bit. 

"I suspect you'll wish to visit with other acquaintances," he mused, "but I should be delighted if you were to regale me with the tales of your latest adventures." 

"Mayhap at dinner?" she suggested. "I'm quite looking forward to catching up myself." It had been some time since she was able to sit down with the family, and she was certain they had some tales of their own to tell her. In such a case, it would surely be best to wait for everyone. 

Count Edmont agreed, and she was left to her own devices a while, unpacking and so forth, before rejoining everyone. 

"Ho there, old girl!" a familiar cheerful voice rang out, even sooner than she'd anticipated. Emmanellain was grinning wildly, and Honoroit gave her a polite bow from his side. The situation was regrettably true to her prior imagining, to the consternation of Artoirel and Edmont both, yet conversation subsided to more affable things easily enough. They all talked well into the evening, and breakfast the next morning brought an equally warm atmosphere. 

It was simple, mundane even, and... so peaceful. This was the real reason she became an adventurer, she thought. Not for fame or fortune, but the quiet parts. For the bonds that form. And she could feel another part of her soul stir, as in agreement. Yes... Ardbert said much the same, did he not? She wondered if he could feel here what she did in the First; that same sense of wonder and nostalgia, where prefect strangers somehow felt old friends. Would that he could still answer her. But for the time being, those of House Fortemps needed to return to their various duties, and so she was left to explore on her own. 

❦❦❦ 

There were of course many places she could go within a place like Ishgard, but it seemed she needn't have bothered contemplating her next destination, as already her feet already moved to carry her to the Congregation on their own. A too familiar path, if... mayhap not the most appropriate one. This was surely not the place to visit casually. Yet having already been spotted by Ser Lucia and Ser Handeloup, it would be too insolent to turn away now. 

"Alexandria," Lucia said in surprise. "What brings you here?" 

"Is Ser Aymeric in?" she asked carefully. "I realize he must be quite busy--" 

"Ah, of course," Lucia nodded. "I shall inform him of your presence at once." 

Most like, the First Commander was under the assumption that she was there on behalf the Scions, so Alexandria immediately moved to stop her. "You needn't go to the trouble," she insisted. "I've nothing of import to bring to his attention; this is merely a social call. If you could simply inform him that I'm in the area, then if his schedule permits--" 

"Oh, no. I'm afraid I must insist." And before she could protest again, she was being led past the guard post down the corridor, to the seat of the Lord Commander. Lucia summarily opened the door without so much as knocking, revealing Ser Aymeric in the company of Count Durendaire, in the middle of what seemed some manner of heated political argument. Yet no sooner than Aymeric saw the doors open, his face brightened. 

"Ah, a guest," he responded joyfully. "Count Charlemend, might we continue this another time? It would seem I have other business to attend to." 

The elderly count bowed and took his leave, leaving Alexandria feeling somewhat amiss. It was quite unlike Lucia to not ask her business, much less parade her into Aymeric's office while he was attending to other affairs. 

"I didn't interrupt anything important, I hope?" she asked. It would be too mortifying to learn she'd barged in on something important. 

"Judging by your expression, am I to assume there is no news from the Scions?" Aymeric asked her. She gave a slow, awkward nod, but Aymeric was unfazed. "Even better. Lucia, do you mind passing along an order of wine on the way out?" 

"At once, Lord Commander." Lucia gave a bow, and took an exit. Alexandria could but tilt her head in bewilderment. 

"Please, please, take a seat," Aymeric gestured. Sensing her confusion, he continued, "That was Lucia's idea of a joke, I suspect. She's been showing increasing dismay at my working hours--I don't relax enough, as it were--and I think this her way of forcing the issue. But truly, you could not have come at better time. I have naught but respect for Count Durendaire, of course, but suffice to say there is fair little we agree upon. It has been... Well, I suppose it would not become someone in my position to complain. Yet such as it is." 

"Troubles with the House of Lords?" She observed wryly. Hardly an enviable position to be in, and there was little sense in carrying guilt for arriving unannounced if doing so granted Aymeric some respite. 

"Never ending," he affirmed, with an exhale that could equally be mistaken for a laugh or a sigh. "But enough of my troubles. What brings you to Ishgard?" 

"A vacation of sorts," she explained. An attendant came in partway to leave them two mugs of the wine Aymeric had asked for, and she took a cup gratefully. "Much has happened, and rather than jump into the next adventure straight away, I thought that I would take some time to rest. ... Or try to, as it were." 

"... I see. I confess I'm quite relieved to hear that," Aymeric responded with a smile. "I cannot begin to imagine the burdens you must carry, and after all you and yours have done for us, rest seems long overdue. If there is ever aught I can do to help shoulder things, you need but say the word." 

"I... Thank you." She was a little taken aback by the sincerity behind the words, but the warm cup in her hands gave her an idea. "Mayhap we could finish that tour of your wine cellar," she suggested. A jest, of course--friends though they may have been, balancing free time with ceaseless personal responsibilities seemed something of a great burden. She could hardly impose upon on him. 

"Hah," Aymeric laughed. He looked a child that had just been given a present. "A fine suggestion. This evening, perhaps?" 

It was... rather short notice, and certainly not a request she expected to be taken seriously. "I've no issues with the timing, but are you certain...? If you have other obligations..." 

"For you, I will make time," he responded evenly. "None in Ishgard can deny that we owe you and the Scions much and more, and I intend to honor that to the best of my abilities. Yet perhaps more than that, I consider it a great privilege to spend time with a dear friend." 

She could hardly protest that, could she? Mayhap it was good idea. Aymeric's earnestness to accept was much like him, and yet it seemed they both could use some time to decompress. And thus, she nodded her consent. 

Aymeric's expression softened. There was a warmth to it, something free--something coming not from the Lord Commander or the Lord Speaker, but simply Aymeric, the man. "... Wonderful. I'll send the formal invitation along to House Fortemps." She could feel something stir in her breast at the simple happiness such an arrangement seemed to bring him. Aymeric continued, "Now, how are you getting along? I was of course privy to some of the reports, but it sounds as though your journey was harrowing indeed." 

"At times," she agreed, taking another sip of the mulled wine. "Not all of it. Parts were wonderful." 

"I see. I should very much like to hear your version of events, rather than the dry summaries I received." He seemed rather thrilled by the prospect, but his expression faltered. "Time permitting, of course," he amended apologetically. "Regrettably, I believe we've used up what spare time I can manage in my office hours, but needless to say, I look forward to continuing this conversation." 

"... As do I," she agreed. More than he could know. This was the wonderful part about Ishgard. For all its failings, it managed to feel like home. As if there were value in simply her, the person, not the Warrior of Light. It was why she chose to rest here, and why she thought she might actually manage to relax for once. 

Though perhaps unwittingly asking Ser Aymeric to dinner was not part of the those plans. She set her cup down, and took her leave so that he might continue his day, but the matter of how to continue her own quite eluded her. She'd had many plans ... and now her head felt quite empty. Naught to think of but an upcoming evening with that charming smile. 

❦❦❦ 

Such did not escape notice. She had thought to simply warm herself in the great room at Fortemps manor, but there was one who had other plans. 

"I know that expression," said Emmanellian, fixing her with a devilish grin. "That... _longing_. Tell me everything! Spare no details," he insisted. 

Alexandria's expression drew into frown. By the gods, what did she do to deserve this? And for that matter, "Why are you not back at Camp Dragonhead?" 

"Are you accusing me of shirking my duties? I am positively wounded, old girl." He made to stagger to emphasize. "I'll have you know, Honoroit expertly cleared my schedule that I can spend more time at the manor to entertain our guest. Now, I believe you were about to tell me the object of your affections...?" 

"How... lovely," she groaned. She did love Emannellain, of course, and he had managed to grow much in spite of himself, and yet... This was not one of those times. This, she would not dignify. She cleared her throat. "... Speaking of Honoroit, where is he? It's quite rare to see you stray from his side." 

"Attending to a small errand. He should be back soon. Though _you_ are terrible at changing the subject," he pointed out. "Of course, you needn't tell me. I do have ways of finding out, you know." 

Ah, ever the town gossip. So he hadn't quite grown out of that old habit, had he? Alexandria sighed. "You are quite imagining things, I can assure you." 

"Oh? No sordid love affairs for our hero?" he teased. 

"None at all," she insisted. "I do have plans, but they are with my _friend_ , Ser Aymeric." 

"Hmm," Emmanellain pondered. "You and the Lord Commander. Alone together. Why, that doesn't sound romantic at all," he proclaimed, and not without due sarcasm. 

"Emmanellain..." Alexandria warned, seconds away from reaching for her lance. 

"Alright, alright!" He threw up his hands in surrender. "It's just so fun to see you riled up, is all. Honestly, you're just like my brother and father--so _serious_ all the time. Would it kill you to relax?" 

"It might," she murmured, though she did, in fact, relax somewhat. She moved to eye him critically, and added on a rather direct muttering of, "Arse." 

She was laughing about it, though. She suspected he was too, underneath the aghast expression. 

❦❦❦ 

The evening came, and Alexandria walked the cobblestone road past the astrologicum, on her own this time; there was no need to have a manservant accompany her the rest of the walk now that she knew the location of Borel Manor. Once she presented herself to the guard, she was escorted to the living room to wait. There was a delightful savory scent hanging in the air--dinner, she assumed--and though she was offered water, the truth was she had stayed lunch for this particular event. Not her wisest decision, and one that made the wait the more difficult. 

Eventually, Aymeric poked his head in from the corridor. "Ah, Alexandria," he greeted. To her surprise, he was wearing neither his armor nor more casual clothes, but the garb of a culinarian. "Apologies for the wait. I shall be out shortly." 

She nodded politely. A few moments later, he had changed into his jacket and boots, and was finally ready to escort her to the dining room, where she was greeted by a simple yet mouthwatering spread in the alpine style. "...You made this?" she could not help but asking. 

"Quite so," Aymeric admitted, with an expression bordering on embarrassed. "I had thought to throw a grand feast with no expenses spared as last time, but alas, in my eagerness, I found myself rather unprepared for such an event. Nor had I remembered I had given the head steward leave for the day. Nevertheless, while I am hardly a master chef, I do believe myself at least somewhat skilled, and so I hope you'll enjoy my modest substitution." 

"I... hardly know what to say," she stammered. This must have taken hours to prepare, and with a schedule as laden as Ser Aymeric's? "You needn't have gone to so much trouble." They could have rescheduled, or had something a bit more simple, or... 

"And risk disappointing you?" Aymeric laughed. "Think naught of it--I've been rather needing something to throw myself into beyond work of late, and can think of no worthier cause than an evening with you." 

Much as she wanted to protest the idea of her alleged disappointment, that last line rather stole the air from her lungs, and it was all she could do but to nod and take her seat. Only to find Aymeric studying her intently, waiting for her to take the first bite. A fork full of fish and hollandaise later, and she was in heaven. 

"It's lovely," she pronounced honestly. He nodded, pleased with her assessment, before digging into his own food. 

"I find the champagne pairs quite nicely with the salmon," he advised her, and she smiled, eagerly taking to her first cup of wine for the evening. First of several, as there was still much to be had. Aymeric had prepared several courses for them, as well as several deserts, expertly arranged into small portions to be easily spread between wine and conversation, all crafted favoring a simple elegance over the ostentatious. 

A warmth began to ease its way into her. It was rather nostalgic, being together like this. She could recall how they talked for hours, as she gave him more of her insight of her journey through Dravania. This was much the same, but she had so much more to share this time, about The First, her the sin eaters, her friends. The losses, the victories, laughter and tears. He seemed as enthralled to hear them as she was to tell them. Eventually they grew tired of eating moved to living room, sitting on two lounges opposite each other as they continued to speak at length. 

She wasn't sure how long it had been. There were bells in the distance, and the air had somehow grown quite somber. She was not on a pleasant subject matter by then, of course; there was the last Lightwarden. Betrayals. Secrets. The ache of dooming a world by mere existence. These were pains she had prevailed over of course, but... 

"Are you alright?" Alexandria asked gently. "You've gone rather quiet." 

"I... Forgive me," Aymeric murmured. "Mayhap I've had a bit too much to drink. The tales of your triumph over hardships usually bring me great joy, yet to hear to how close we were to losing you forever... I shudder to think." 

She was not sure how to respond to that. Silence lingered for a moment, and she stood, moving to sit next to him, their arms just barely brushing together. "What, and never see you again?" she offered wryly. "Besides, I can't die so easily. There's far too much left to do." 

Aymeric was taken aback, but he ended up laughing. "Famous last words, I fear. Yet coming from you, I can somehow believe them." He did seem much more at ease, smiling once again with that beautiful warmth that always seemed to reach his eyes. Gods, she could stare into them forever. 

And so it would seem she was doing. "Alexandria?" Aymeric asked patiently. 

She cleared her throat, turning away slightly. "It would seem I've had a bit much myself," she admitted. Why had she even sat next to him, again? This was rather... And yet he did not seem to mind, did he. ... Perhaps it was time to think of something else entirely. "You know... I hate to change the subject to something somber again, but..." She paused for moment. If there was a way to put this delicately, she was not certain of it. "... We plan on visiting him soon. Haurchefant, I mean." 

"I..." Aymeric's expression shifted to something painful. He smoothed it over it, of course. "Yes, Lord Edmont had mentioned such, but I am not certain that I..." 

There was something there. A feeling she could only identify because she herself had carried it many times over. 

"You still blame yourself for what happened," Alexandria observed quietly. 

"Yes, I... I suppose I do," Aymeric admitted, pushing a hand through his hair. "Much as I know he would feel otherwise, I still feel as though the price of my impulsiveness was wrought in blood. I suppose I had to learn rather the hard way that to push too hard was at mine own peril, and yet... would that it had not come at so steep a price." 

"... You did not kill him," she insisted quietly. But she knew too well such shallow words were of little comfort. How much had she ached since his passing? ... Enough to send her down a darker path, for a while. Forced to confront the manifestation of her own anger. Her own grief. "We... are much alike, you and I," she observed quietly. "You've got a rather bad habit of shouldering the guilt." From this and of many things. But Aymeric wasn't like her. He was able to weather the storm, unlike she, who quietly ignored it as it raged on, until she no longer had any choice in the matter. 

"Perhaps," Aymeric agreed. "I admit that in my haste I somewhat fancied myself a martyr, but that is not a mistake I shall be making again. It is my responsibility to face the challenges that lay ahead and see my path to its end." 

Alexandria smiled, giving him an approving nod. That suited him much better, she thought. 

"Can I... ask you something rather impertinent?" Aymeric ventured. She canted her head, curious what such a thing might be. Such was not a word she would ever prescribe to someone like Aymeric. "Did you love him?" he asked carefully. 

She was stunned. "I... What brought this about...?" 

He turned away. ".... Mine apologies. That was a line I should not have crossed. ... Mayhap I should take some time to sober up a bit." 

"No, I..." She sucked in a breath. "I don't mind answering, I just wasn't expecting.... Or rather, I would if I knew how. The truth is... I don't know. I don't think I shall ever know. I know he had those feelings towards me, but I..." She shook her head. "If you're wondering if you stole a lover from me or some such nonsense, please don't. 'Tis true we never had much the chance to find out, but would I have taken such a chance? Would it have it worked if I had? Mayhap his ... unusual inclinations would have gotten the better of me. Who's to say, really. Thinking too deeply on _what if_ feels a waste of time, if you ask me." 

"Forgive me," Aymeric repeated quietly. "That was not appropriate. I'll rather understand if you should like to leave." 

Certainly not on that note, she did not. She moved to grip his shoulder. "Aymeric... It's alright. Truly. He'd want us to move on, not mourn forever." 

"It feels as though I should be comforting you, not the other way around way around," he observed wryly. It coaxed a small smile from her. "But you are right, it would do Lord Haurchefant far greater honor to remember the good. ... Did you know he's part of the reason I was so eager to meet you?" 

"Oh....?" That certainly piqued her curiosity. 

"I was so fascinated by the stories," Aymeric recalls. "You slaying primals and helping the masses and so forth, without want of praise or reward. Though I imagined them to be quite exaggerated, I could not help my growing interest... Until one day Lord Haurchefant came to my office to deliver a report. He told me the tale of an adventurer scorned by the people of Coerthas, who rose to her defense and ousted a heretical conspiracy nevertheless. He insisted that your reputation was not without cause, and so when the opportunity came that I might meet with you, I felt I could not let such chance slip me by. I never imagined at the time that I was in fact meeting the woman who would prove to be Ishgard's greatest hero." 

Alexandria laughed. It was easy to imagine Haurchefant carrying on with Aymeric emphatically. "He was like that, wasn't he? Always so full of positivity. I think he was the first person on my journey who ever truly welcomed me. Leading this kind of life, it's always, 'go here, do this,' but he wasn't interested in all of that. I never had to prove my usefulness as a friend to him. There was a time when it felt the entire world had turned its back on us, but not him. He... He was a safe harbour." Our _Falling Snows_ , as Alphinaud had once put it. 

"He was a good man," Aymeric agreed. He seemed to have more to say, but he was interrupted by the bells of Ishgard tolling once more. "... Mayhap I should escort you home," he said instead. 

"That's alright. I've taken enough of your time." She pulled herself to her feet... only to immediately feel dizzy. She certainly didn't feel drunk, but... the wobbling of her feet said otherwise. Odd. Though mayhap explained why she was feeling rather more talkative than usual this evening. 

Aymeric's arm was around her in an instant. "I'm afraid I rather insist--Much as I know you to be capable, I do not believe Lord Edmont would forgive me if I sent you home alone in such a state." 

"Oh, alright," she sighed. The proximity may have had something to do with how easily she relented, in spite of him releasing her almost immediately. 

The walk back to Fortemps Manor was relaxing. The snow drifted downward more gently than normal, and although Alexandria had regained her poise, Aymeric's arm seemed to hover at her back, ready to catch her if she stumbled. Entirely unnecessary, but somewhat endearing. It seemed he would not be satisfied until he delivered her safely to the guard, stepping away from her side only when they reached the doorstep. 

"Would that we could continue indefinitely, but alas, time marches on, and duties ever call," he lamented. 

She laughed. "There are times when abandoning all responsibilities does not sound so unappealing," she admitted, "but I think neither of us are the type that is truly able." 

"Quite so," Aymeric agreed. "Goodnight, my friend." 

"Goodnight, Ser Aymeric," Alexandria echoed. She had a feeling that she would rest quite easy tonight. 

Or she did, until Aymeric suddenly turned back around mid-step. "Ah, Alexandria?" he called out. She tilted her head, and he continued. "A ball! ... There's going to be one, I mean. I know it's rather short notice, but I would be overjoyed if you were to attend with me." 

"Oh, I..." she swallowed, finding herself nodding slowly. "...Alright." 

The brightness of the expression he gave her would be with her for the rest of the evening. 

❦❦❦ 

Part of Alexandria wondered that Aymeric might not rush home and take to bed, immediately forgetting what had happened. Yet sure enough, the invitation came, and she was filled with an unusual sense of dread. The mild hangover probably did not help. In such a state did Artoirel find her, idly flipping the envelope in her hands. 

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you alright?" 

"I seem to have gotten myself into a rather fine mess," she muttered, handing him the invitation. 

He scanned it briefly, and turned his expression back towards her. "I'm not certain I understand," Artoirel pronounced. "This is a great honor. Do you not to wish to attend? I thought you and Ser Aymeric were close." 

"We are. Ser Aymeric is not the issue," she clarified. "How am I to prepare for this? It seems somewhat short notice to have a dress made, and what of the decorum? It was my understanding that Ishgardians are much more stringent in these affairs than the other city-states. I might also point out that parties do not tend end well for me. Framed for murder, dosed with a sleeping potion... What manner of disaster do you imagine will happen this time?" 

"I..." Artoirel cleared his throat. "Point taken. Though I fear you worry too much. I can certainly call in a favor to have suitable attire expedited if you're truly worried. As for ballroom etiquette, not being of Ishgardian birth, you will be neither expected nor required to know any of the finer points beyond basic politeness, of which you already have plenty. Furthermore, my father and I will also be present at this particular function, and I believe the First Commander will also be in attendance, so you need not worry about impressing upon strangers." 

"And the disasters?" Alexandria pressed. 

"I fear that much is somewhat beyond me, but I shall do whatever I can. This worrying is rather unlike you, however," he pointed out. 

"I know," she sighed. "It's just that this seems so... I think I sympathize with Estinien's loathing of such events. The trappings of high society are not for me." 

"If you hold that much disdain for balls, should you have not just told him?" Artoirel pointed out. He handed Alexandria her invitation back, that she might quietly tuck it away again. "Or is it... Could it be that you're worried about embarrassing not yourself, but rather Ser Aymeric?" 

"What? No!" she protested. ".... Alright, a little, perhaps. 'Tis not my first overly pompous gathering, but I only ever had myself to worry about. Now I'm the personal guest of the Lord Speaker?" 

"I can scarce believe mine ears," Artoirel breathed. "The Warrior of Light, Savior of Ishgard, former Azure Dragoon, is afraid of... Smalltalk and dancing?" 

"I suppose it would sound a _bit_ ridiculous, were one to put it that way.... But I would feel much happier with something to swing my lance at," she complained. 

"I see. Ever the woman of action. Still, we all have our duties," he pointed out. 

"And mine is to smile and nod and do as I'm told," she quipped. "Alright, I get the picture. I suppose I can stop moping and get to preparing. You said you could help procure a dress? Oh, and do you have a book detailing the dance steps?" 

"Certainly," Artoirel agreed. "And if I might also point out that Ser Aymeric is head over heels for you? You have naught to fret over." 

"I..." Alexandria grew quiet for a moment. "You noticed, did you?" Much more astute than his brother, to be certain. 

He nodded. "It's rather obvious to anyone with modicum of sense, I'm afraid," he explained politely. "If you are so determined to impress, you shall certainly have my aid, but I'm rather of the opinion you shan't be needing it." 

"Hmm." She crossed her arms defensively. "Right then. Fine. But I'm going to hold you personally responsible if something goes wrong." 

That gave him quite a start, but he managed to compose himself. "You jest, of course." She did not answer, and Artoirel sighed, shaking his head. "You are a terrifying woman, did you know that?" 

❦❦❦ 

The evening came, and Alexandria felt suitably prepared; they had managed her a lovely blue ball gown, and she was able to study a tome detailing the finer points of Ishgardian dances. As for the matter of decorum, it seemed simpler to remain silent and direct questions away from herself, so she at least had a plan. Those of House Fortemps stayed behind, that she and Ser Aymeric might travel with them. He arrived in finery of blue, for which Alexandria could not be more pleased; in addition to suiting him perfectly, they were quite well coordinated. 

"You look wonderful," Aymeric told her, warmth in his tone. Such a dull line, and yet she found herself rather affected by it, owing to his gentle sincerity. 

"As do you," she returned. 

His sharp laugh that followed sounded more surprised than amused, though satisfied either way. "Shall we?" He offered her his arm, and she gracefully held onto it to as the group began their stroll through the snow. 

Her breath was in her throat, for some reason, growing ever worse if she chanced to looked up on his soft profile. Internally, she groaned. Had she truly been reduced to this...? Estinien would have a field day if he witnessed her in such a state. Though Aymeric himself seemed... different than normal. Quieter. Sheepish, almost. 

Surely she was imagining it. 

Whatever mood there may have been, it was dispersed far too early for comfort, almost as soon as they had entered the door. How easily she had forgotten that merely staying silent would do little to quell the nobility's propensity for gossip and posturing. 

"I must say, this is highly irregular," a man was saying, in a decidedly fake hush, the sort where one pretends to be discreet, but explicitly wants every word to be heard. She did not recognize his face, but knew his attire to be that of House Dzemael. "I know men will have their dalliances, but to parade them out in the open... Does Ser Aymeric not have an ounce of discretion? And with a _Viera_ , no less. Is this what the noble houses have been reduced to? Have we become so unashamed of sin?" 

She could feel herself bristle. The high road was certainly _not_ preferable here, as far as she was concerned, though she had a feeling that maiming the pompous arse here and now would not be looked upon very kindly, and so she was at a bit of a loss of what to do. 

Her company was not so apt to let her suffer such an indignity. "You dishonor yourself, ser!" Edmont cried. "The woman you speak of is under the protection of House Fortemps, and we will not take kindly to such insults, least of all to the _Savior of Ishgard._ " 

"A title actually earned, unlike many," Artoirel added pointedly. The men they addressed grumbled halfhearted apologies and dispersed, wanting to avoid a bigger scene, but the damage was done; the mood had grown decidedly sour. 

"...I think I would like a bit of air," Alexandria said quietly. She was not sure she felt up to airs of gaiety after that display. 

"Of course. Take all the time you need," Aymeric told her, equally subdued. Guilt clouded his features. Meanwhile, Edmont and Artoirel exchanged glances. As Alexandria departed for the balcony, Edmont trailed her, whilst Artoirel accompanied Aymeric into the gathering proper. 

She placed her hands on the railing and sighed, staring out the snow, stretching a hand out and letting the powdery flakes brush her fingertips. She'd always loved the cold. The familiarity of it. 

"You need not take such vile ramblings to heart," Edmont said, appearing by her side. "'Tis merely the posturing of lesser men." 

"Lesser men who are lucky they were in a crowd," Alexandria amended. She retracted her hand, placing it back onto the balcony rail. "But no, it's not that. You start to grow numb to the commentary after a while." There had always been misguided whispers, even before her rise to fame. Evidently, the ears she was born with, or rather, the rarity of her people in the outside world, invited certain misconceptions. "Piss on them." 

"Hm. While I do not agree with the language, the sentiment is one I'm able to concur with," Edmont told her. "But if not them, what, pray tell, has you so affected?" 

That was difficult to answer. She was quiet for a while, thinking. Searching. "I suppose I was under some false pretension the evening would be perfect," she admitted after a while. "It's childish, I know." 

"Even old men such as me have such moments, but we must take care not to wallow in them," he advised. He was right, of course. She nodded, letting the air fall into comfortable silence, though after a while, Edmont moved to break it. "Might I make an admission of mine own?" 

"Of course," Alexandria answered, turning toward him in curiosity. 

"Your visit is the liveliest the manor has been in some time. In truth, there is a part of me that rather wishes it could stay so, though I imagine you'll be called upon for some manner of impossible task ere long. Your guardianship under my house may be as a mere ward, but as I'm concerned, you are as a trueborn daughter." 

"Lord Edmont..." she breathed. "You know, I... I sometimes still can't believe what a gift he gave me, asking his family to take us in as he did. I never imagined I'd get a real family out of it. I never.. had much of one, before. I might be a hero out here, but I'm less than a person to my people. Forever exiled, for the sin of setting foot outside the forest." 

"A tale that's somewhat beyond my comprehension," Edmont admitted, "but one that ultimately proved a blessing, I should think. Haurchefant would be overjoyed at what you've come to mean to our family." 

She nodded brightly, content with that assessment. It seemed she had more to say, but a third voice joined in. 

"Might I interject?" Aymeric called out. "I'd like a word with Alexandria, if I may." 

Edmont stole a glance between the pair, and gave a polite bow to excuse himself. Aymeric settled into the place where he had been standing. 

"You seem in much better spirits," he observed. 

She nodded. "It would seem Lord Edmont has managed to grow even more doting in his retirement," she laughed fondly. "I'm alright. I'm sorry if I've worried you." 

"Not at all. In fact, 'tis I that should be apologizing to you," he told her, voice soft. "I... should have anticipated that your presence would have been used as a paltry political jab at mine own expense, and I found myself so stunned that I failed to rise your defense when I should have. Can you forgive me?" 

"Hm." Alexandria let her eyes drift closed. "Apology _not_ accepted, on count of you having done nothing wrong," she said pointedly. "Do you truly think I'd be upset with you over another man's ignorance?" 

He chuckled. "I suppose not. Yet, I would still like to make it up you all the same." 

She canted her head. "What did you have in mind?" 

There was some strange sparkle in his eyes. "I am yet uncertain," he told her, stretching out a hand, "but I thought perhaps we could start with a dance." 

There it was. That bright smile that always affected her so. How did he always manage to exude such grace? She affixed him with a beam of her own, and wordlessly took his hand, trailing along as he led her back into the great hall, through the bustling crowd. This would do... Mayhap she'd been too hasty to dismiss the affair. What was one rude comment in the scheme of things? At least she was still conscious this time. And there wasn't any blood anywhere. 

"What has you smiling so?" Aymeric asked her, leading her into a twirl. 

Was she...? She hasn't noticed. "I was thinking about the last time we were at a party together," she told him, leaning back into his arms. "You were called away under false pretenses, and then I was accused of murder." 

"I... That is quite a thing to be laughing at," he told her. He was suppressing laughter of his own, though she suspected it was more in bewilderment at her morbidity than the subject matter itself. Not that it mattered. That little crinkle the expression gave to the corner of his eyes was enthralling, and now she had every excuse in the world not to look away from them. To simply lose herself in their dance steps. Right now, there was naught in the world that could pry her from his side, short of the next Calamity. 

A mutual feeling, it would seem. There were those who tried to call to his attention--such attempts were summarily shot down, and it took a great deal of willpower for Alexandria to restrain her laughter. This was quite different from the Aymeric she knew, always so full of dignity and aplomb. She wondered what had gotten into him. 

"I thought these soirees were about forging political connections?" she asked him. 

"So they are," Aymeric agreed, "but further such events will come, as they always do. At the moment, I find myself rather preoccupied by an important connection of mine own, as it were." 

"I... still can't figure out how you manage that," Alexandria pondered. 

"Manage what?" he asked. 

"To be so... I'm not sure if have the word. But if anyone else used such a line on me, I can assure you they would regret it." 

"Is that so?" Aymeric laughed, a bright, melodious sound. "You remind me of Estinien, at times." 

"I suppose I'll have to take that as a compliment," she told him, shaking her head. 

After some time, they finally grew weary of dancing and managed to separate themselves, just so. Though they spoke with others, there were times when Alexandria found herself looking up, only to met with beautiful sapphire eyes in the distance, warming her very soul. Just enough for her not to be repulsed by the banality of her own sentiments. Though she did find herself wondering when such thoughts became so... encompassing. It was not like this before, was it? 

Eventually, she found herself back out on the balcony, enjoying the cold, quiet air. Edmont and Artoirel had already bid her goodnight, entrusting Aymeric to see her safely home. The ball began to dwindle somewhat, and though they had not yet overstayed their welcome, it was growing quite late. 

"Ah, there you are," Aymeric greeted. "I was wondering where you'd run off to." 

She gave a small sigh. "A bit partied out, I think," she admitted. Though in a contented sort of way--far from drained, despite the poor beginning. 

"I see. Glad to hear it," he said, shifting to her side, looking out over the horizon with her, though he turned his gaze back toward her after a moment, beaming. 

She swallowed. She could see the starlight reflected in his eyes, and her feet seemed to shift toward him with a will of their own. Somehow, the reflection seemed preferential to the real thing, and soon they were face to face. One of Aymeric's hands drifted upwards, reaching, though his fingers twitched in hesitation mid gesture. 

"... May I?" He asked, his voice gentle. 

Alexandria nodded, and his fingers brushed through her hair, his thumb caressing her cheek in soft, slow motions. Her mouth suddenly felt so dry. This couldn't be real, could it...? Yet her own hands lifted themselves to cup his face, as well. Her eyes remained transfixed on his, searching. 

She wasn't sure when their lips met. She couldn't be certain who initiated it, or if she had even moved at all. But once there, there was naught to do but to let her eyes drift closed. To linger into it. He pulled back after a while, resting his forehead against hers and giving a slow, contented exhale. 

"I should have done that long ago," he murmured, still so close she could feel his breath upon her lips. 

She didn't think she'd ever felt her heart beat so hard. "I am... not certain it would have worked, long ago," she pronounced slowly. It was difficult to speak. Difficult to breathe. All she truly wanted was to focus on was the softness of his lips, still faintly sweet from champagne earlier in the party. And so she did, leaning back into him for a moment. _Just a moment more._ A phrase that wanted to sing through her being. 

Aymeric looked perhaps the happiest she'd yet seen. He'd always been poor at concealing affection, but this... This was truly on a new level. 

"Much as I'm loathe to, we should be heading back," he whispered after a while. 

"... If we must," she agreed, with a wry a smile. 

The walk back was silent. Suddenly they knew not what to say, save to let their hands drift together, fingers interlocking. Perhaps they needn't say anything at all, save to let quiet contentment run through them. It was certainly a comfortable silence, much as Alexandria was beginning to feel a bundle of nerves. By the gods, to be reduced to a blushing maiden like this... And rather enjoying it too much to feel the proper disgust towards herself. 

Fortemps Manor loomed over them, yet even given the hour, parting did not seem right. Not yet. "Come in for a moment?" she all but pleaded. He seemed as if he might deny her request, but quickly thought the better of it, and gave silent affirmation. 

The manor was silent. It seemed everyone had taken to their chambers, save the head steward, who had left them a fire roaring in the great room. She was quick to insist they needed no hospitality, and bid the man to rest. This left only her and Aymeric to sit before the fire, and she curled into his side as a matter of course, head resting on his shoulder. 

"I can hardly believe it," she breathed. 

Aymeric laughed as he wrapped an arm around her. "I believe that should be my line. I... have thought of you for some time now, but not once did I imagine such might be reciprocated. Until now." 

"I never... imagined myself allowed to even have such thoughts," she admitted. "I was always supposed to be.... neutral. Untouchable. Always moving." 

"I understand far better than you know," he told her, leaning into her just a bit more. "I never felt I had the freedom or the inclination, yet part of me also feared it. I suppose I assumed such a union would meet a disastrous end in some political machination, or so forth." 

"The squabbles of those in power," she mused. "I found out what happened to the previous Lord Commander. I can hardly blame you for not wanting to introduce romance to such a climate." 

"The matter of Ser Yuhelmeric's wife being taken by the inquisition? Aye, he was never the same after that." Aymeric shook his head. "But we needn't worry about such things, especially with someone like you by my side." He gave a small pause. "If I may, what made you change your mind?" 

"Well... It wasn't as though I consciously decided I was ready for romance or anything like that..." Alexandria trailed off. How to explain...? "I suppose... Every step I took through the First, Eorzea was ever on my mind. A journey like that, you realize what's important to you. What's _really_ important. And for me, it was all those connections I made. Friends. Loved ones. That's why I came back here for a while." 

"You've grown," he observed. 

"As have you. You always tried to disguise your passions as practicalities. You seem much more free to _be,_ where you are now." 

"My--..." He was at a loss for words for a moment, but a laugh followed. "You sound like Lucia. I learned to differentiate between friend and foe as a matter of course, yet around my most trusted confidants, those passions were wont to come tumbling out. I distinctly recall her lecturing me that I grow overly excitable, owing to trying to keep too much restraint. Given that you seem to agree, I take it to mean my composure is yet lacking." 

She had to laugh at that. She couldn't help it. "I... don't know that I'd say that. You're the very picture of dignity, most of the time. Besides, I always found it quite endearing when you suddenly started using me as a sounding board to vent your frustrations. And in fact, it was in realizing the depths of your passion and idealism that I began to fall for you." 

"I suppose we have that in common, you and I," Aymeric observed, giving her a gentle squeeze. He shifted in his seat somewhat, that he might face her a bit better. "Can I ask you something?" 

"Hm?" she lifted her head toward him in curiosity. 

"... Might I kiss you again?" 

It was so simple and earnest she felt her heart flutter. "That's... You're a bit beyond needing to ask now, you know," she pointed out. But he was right. They'd spent entirely too much time _sharing_ and not nearly enough making up for all the time they'd held themselves back. 

Aymeric's hand pressed against the small of her back, pulling her closer, and she took in his lips hungrily, drawing in his scent and simply lingering for moment, their lips still locked. Her own lips parted a little more, inviting Aymeric's tongue to probe her own, soft and slow, every little motion deliberate. Her hands moved to his back, pressing him in, desperate for more, smoothing encouraging circles against the fabric of his jacket. And the more he pressed against her in turn, until she found she had fallen back against the couch, Aymeric hovering just above her. 

Gods, what a beautiful sight. 

She wasn't inclined to stop, but it seemed Aymeric had somewhat better control of himself. "I.... could find myself rather carried away with you," he admitted, his voice sheepish. 

"As could I," she breathed. It was difficult to speak. 

He studied her for a moment, pondering. Hesitating. The question that followed seemed to slip out against his better judgment. "... Do you want to?" 

They... Shouldn't, should they...? Yet her impulse said otherwise. "Yes," she admitted honestly. By the twelve, _yes_. 

He was quiet for a moment. "We should move to a more suitable location," he pronounced. 

She nodded. Somehow, they managed to disentangle themselves and quietly put out the fire. Aymeric's arm was around her waist as she led him to her room as discreetly as she was able, locking the door behind her before meeting his lips again, pushing his jacket off as they stumbled to the edge of her bed. His hands moved to unlace the back of her dress as gently as he could manage, but he ended up pulling away again, to look her in the eyes. 

"Are you certain?" he questioned, voice quiet. "There will be no going back." 

"Yes," she reiterated simply. That did not seem to be enough of an answer; he rested his hand under her chin, giving a gentle stroke with his thumb as he continued to search her eyes. She felt her breath catch in her throat. ".... Well, I'm nervous," she amended. "But I'd still like to." 

He nodded, satisfied. "Is there aught I can do to make you more comfortable?" 

"I don't know," she admitted. "It's just... People have always seem to think I'm ... _experienced_ , with this sort of thing. It's... quite the opposite." 

"I understand," he told her. He seemed to struggle with his next question. "Have you ever...?" 

It took her a moment to catch his meaning. ".... Oh. Well, yes. There was one... It was a mistake. I'd barely ever seen a man in my life before I left my village, and my curiosity got the better of me. He... was not a very good person, so it was quite short-lived." She turned away. That was ... incredibly embarrassing to admit. She did not like this feeling. 

"Alexandria. It's alight." His voice was soothing, a balm to her sudden unrest. She should have known better than to think someone like Aymeric would ever judge her. She stared up at him, and he brushed a hand through her hair. "In the spirit of full disclosure... There were moments in my youth, but it's been... a very long time," he admitted. "But if you're certain, we can take whatever pace you like, and I want you to know it's alright to stop at any time, if needs be." 

"You're... very sweet," she told him quietly. "It means a great deal. But Aymeric?" 

"Yes?" 

"Stop making a production of things and take my clothes off, already. Of course I want you." 

He laughed. "Words I could grow used to hearing." Now having more than enough permission, he turned his lips to her jawline. "Mayhap you could repeat them for me?" 

"I..." Her face felt hot. "I want you," she repeated quietly. "Please stop teasing me." 

"Alright, alright," he chuckled, drawing her lips back to his own. 

It was a gentle affair. Aymeric went far out of his way to ensure Alexandria determined the pace, which was somewhat difficult for her, at first--she felt as through she wanted to be guided a bit more, and willful as she could sometimes be, she wasn't much sure how to vocalize her own wants, much less put them to practice. Yet Aymeric was boundlessly patient and encouraging with her as she attempted to learn herself, and she found herself growing ever more relaxed. Ever more free to warm into it and want _more,_ until she at last collapsed into a heap back into her bed. Aymeric gently cleaned them with a stray towel, before settling back in to hold her close. 

"You were wonderful," he praised her. 

She turned slightly, to look up at him. "That was... I thought you said you weren't all that experienced yourself?" 

"It was the truth," he laughed. "We are just compatible, I think. Such experiences are always more pleasant with one you care about." 

"Hmm." Mayhap there was some truth to what he was saying. "I'm a bit surprised you were so eager. I've no qualms, but I thought Ishgardians didn't approve of this sort of thing." 

"One of the many divisions between highborn and lowborn," he explained. "The nobility's obsession with sanctity and purity has lead and to rampant repression--and rampant misconduct, by the same token. I do not agree with such treatment, nor do I believe the Fury would scorn my union with someone who means a great deal to me." 

So he was of the belief that such things deserved more freedom. She could see his point--there were many for whom it could have saved much pain, Aymeric himself included. She curled into him a bit more, and he softly caressed her back. 

"No regrets, I take it?" he asked. 

"None," she affirmed. "I'm... quite happy." It was an understatement, and did not nearly touch upon all the things she wanted to tell him, but for now, it would suffice. 

"I'm rather glad to hear that." He leaned in, giving her a small kiss on the forehead. "I only wish I could stay to hold you the rest of the night." 

"Can't you?" Alexandria pressed. 

"And face Lord Edmont, as I shamelessly stride out from your room in the same wrinkled clothes from the night before? I think not. Much as I think people deserving of more freedom to be with whomever they chose, that does not preclude advertising such acts, least of all to a man akin to mine own father," Aymeric pointed out. 

".... You have a point," she admitted. "I suppose I'm not eager to _advertise_ such things myself." She gave a small, defeated sigh. "Still... won't you come back for breakfast once you've changed? I wouldn't tell people about _that_ , but a simple romance is quite another matter." 

"That, I think I can do," he agreed. "I do apologize for the short time together... I promise I'll take better care of you, the next time we're so inclined." 

"You've taken plenty of care of me," she muttered. "You needn't be so delicate." 

"I will try to keep that in mind." He kissed her once more, a small, chaste peck of the lips. "I'll see you again soon, my love." 

She wondered if she would ever stop feeling quite so stirred by simple words of affection. It was really quite distracting. 

❦❦❦ 

After all was said and done, Alexandria was able to count the hours of rest she received on a single hand. And yet, she felt more refreshed than she had in some time. Besides, it would be difficult to rest when her whole being seemed to buzz with excitement. Her and Aymeric.... She still couldn't believe it to be true. That effervescent feeling welled up inside her, and she all but floated down the corridor. 

At least, until Edmont stopped her. "Good morning, Alexandria," he greeted warmly. And added somewhat more pointedly, "Is Ser Aymeric to be joining us this morning?" 

Dear gods, he knew, didn't he? It took her considerable effort not to freeze in place. "I did invite him, yes," she responded, keeping her tone as carefully neutral as she was able. Though she somewhat wanted to scream. 

Edmont eyed her critically for moment, and sighed. "You need not be so embarrassed. It is my opinion that such a partnership is long overdue, and it is my hope that it might serve as a reminder to all of Ishgard that the barriers we place between ourselves are of our own making. I offer you my most sincere congratulations." He even gave her a small bow. 

She exhaled in relief, not realizing she'd been holding her breath. "Thank you, Lord Edmont," she responded warmly. "That truly means a lot." 

They made their way to the breakfast table, where the rest of the family waited. It was a typical scene--Emmanellian and Honoroit carrying on as idiot comedy act, as they did, and Artoirel looking positively exasperated, though he warmed once he spotted Alexandria and his father. All that was missing was the guest of honor, though once he arrived, Alexandria was immediately on her feet to greet him. Aymeric placed a small kiss on her cheek before taking his seat, resting his hand atop hers as he took to a cup of tea. 

Emmanellain was aghast. "Why, Alexandria, you sly devil, you!" he exclaimed, and was somewhat disheartened to find he was the only one excited about the development. "Come now, no one has anything to say?" 

Artoirel gave a halfhearted shrug. "I told you there was naught to be concerned about," he told Alexandria, turning back towards his food. Edmont made no comment, continuing to quietly drink his morning coffee. 

Emmanellain could at times be daft, but this atmosphere, it seemed, he was perfectly capable of reading. "... Could it be that everyone knew but me?" 

"Sorry, old boy," Alexandria murmured. "If it makes you feel any better, it's not as though I told anyone--they seemed to figure it out on their own." 

"And here I thought we were _friends_ ," Emmanellain lamented. Edmont and Artoirel both appeared rather annoyed by his carrying on, but this time, Alexandria did not mind much. "How long have you been holding feelings for him?" he continued obliviously. 

Hmm. "Since we saved those hostages in the Vault together, I suppose...?" She thought aloud. 

"Really?" This voice belonged to Aymeric, who squeezed her hand in surprise. "So long?" 

"Sooner, perhaps," she amended, "but that was when I first began to notice. You fervently led the charge to help those people, without second thought to your own injuries, and I think I began to realize how alike we truly are." 

"I..." Was he growing somewhat red, or did she merely imagine it? "You flatter me. But mayhap we can continue this conversation another time. Without an audience," he pointed out. 

"Ah." There was certainly that, wasn't there? "... Sorry," she muttered. 

"It may be a faux pas elsewhere, but you needn't fear for manners here," Artoirel informed them. "You are family both, and your happiness brings us great joy." 

"Here, here!" Emmanellain cried, and Edmont gave them a firm nod of approval. 

"... Thank you, all of you," Aymeric responded graciously, though he still moved to change the subject for the time being. "You still have a couple of days left," he observed. "Have you any thoughts on you'll spend the day?" 

"I was thinking of making a small trip back to Mor Dhona, actually," Alexandria mused. "I want to share the good news with my friends." 

"That sounds wonderful," Aymeric smiled. "Do give the Scions my regards." 

"And mine as well," Edmont agreed. "I have not seen Master Alphinaud in some time." 

❦❦❦ 

Conversation continued for a time, but eventually, they all parted ways. Aymeric and Artoirel both had various duties to attend to, Emmanellain returned to his post, and Edmont retired to his study to continue working on his memoir. Alexandria went back to her room for a moment to change into lighter clothes. It made the walk down to aetheryte plaza uncomfortably cold even by her tastes, but she was much warmer once she made it to to the entrance of the Rising Stones. 

G'raha was there to greet her, eager as ever. "You're back early. Already tired of resting?" 

"Surprisingly, no," she told him. "I wanted to talk to everyone--I've had something of a personal development." 

"And here I thought you were ready to set upon the road again, that I might escape my rigorous training," G'raha lamented jokingly. 

"Alisaie putting you through the ringer again, is she?" Alexandria laughed. "She does seem to get a sadistic joy in her new status as your senior." 

"To put it lightly," he agreed. "But if you wait but a moment, I'll see that everyone returns." 

She nodded, as he turned to contact the rest of the Scions via linkpearl. They began to filter in after a while, eager to listen to her announcement. Hm. She was beginning to regret this format; mayhap this was a bit excessive. Still... She couldn't call them in and simply leave things be. 

"As you know, I've been staying in Ishgard for a short time," she began, somewhat awkwardly, "and there have been ... certain developments, that I wished to share." 

They all exchanged glances. The awkward shuffling, the lack of eye contact, the fretting... All most unlike her. 

"Well, it doesn't sound very life threatening, whatever it is," Thancred observed. "Gone and got yourself a lover, have you?" She sputtered, which only caused his grin to increase. "I see. Going to tell us the name of the lucky man?" 

Godsdammit, why did he have to be so.... Yet it was true that she should just spit it out. ".... Ser Aymeric," she muttered quietly, not daring to look anyone in the eye. Honestly, this was the worst idea she'd ever had. 

There were various rumblings of surprise in the room, but the one she picked up on most of all was the self-satisfied uttering of, " _I knew it._ " Thancred again. 

"Oh, no." She pointed an accusing finger at him. "Absolutely not. You are the very last man who gets to comment. Or shall we go into _your_ sordid history?" 

"I... You know I've grown out of that!" he protested. 

Such did not prevent Y'shtola from laughing at his expense. She turned towards Alexandria. "And here I'd thought I'd found a kindred spirit in my aversion to such things," she commented wryly. "Though I know him to be a man of integrity, do take care. You of all people know what the politics of Ishgard can be like." 

It almost sounded a lecture, and Alexandria was not certain whether to laugh or sigh. "...Yes, mother," she groaned instead. 

"Well, I for one think it's wonderful news," Alphinaud cut in brightly. "I rather share your love of Ishgard, and I have great respect for Ser Aymeric. I wish you both well." 

"Quite so," Urianger agreed. "Please allow me to express mine utmost commendations on this most auspicious of occasions." He gave her a bow, and Alexandria waved a hand in embarrassment. That seemed to be laying it on thick even for him. 

They all offered expressions on congratulations and so forth, beginning to talk and carry on amongst themselves. It seemed they were pleased, though not so much by the news itself, but that something good was happening, for once. That seemed ample cause for celebration. 

All save one. Alisaie, who had remained quiet most of the time, let out small, petulant noise of disgust. "Honestly," she muttered. "The man is so in love with the sound of his own voice it's a wonder there'd be any room for you at all." 

"Now, Alisaie," her brother scolded. "Your thoughts on Ser Aymeric aside, surely you can find _Alexandria's_ happiness cause for joy?" 

This did not seem to assuage her anger. "He's going to change you, you know," she said, turning to face her friend. "He'll want you to stop traveling and get married, possibly even have children, all so he can parade you about as some trophy. You are not some prize to be won!" 

It stole the air from Alexandria's throat. She had somewhat expected Alisaie to be upset, but she had not anticipated so strident a disapproval. Her assessment of Aymeric's character was far off mark, and yet... Hm. Something in the words stung more than they should have. 

The room went quiet after her outburst, and sensing she'd gone too far, Alisaie sighed. "I'm... going outside for a bit," she said quietly. 

Alexandria wondered if she should go after her, but Alphinaud shook his head. She supposed he would know, but to leave things like this...? Perhaps if she got a glass of water, it would be enough time for Alisaie to cool off a bit. Though the waiting felt too restless, and soon she found herself going after her anyway. 

She found her on the ramparts, gazing out over the twisted landscape toward Silvertear Falls. Alexandria settled in next to her, uncertain what to say, but it seemed she didn't have to, as her companion spoke first. "You really... care about him?" Alisaie asked quietly. 

"I do," Alexandria nodded. Though she was getting the feeling this had nothing to do with Aymeric at all. She paused for a moment, venturing cautiously, "You know this doesn't mean I love _you_ any less? It's a different kind, that's all." 

Alisaie sputtered. "I don't... That is _not_ what I--" 

"I know you have no love of politics," Alexandria continued, "but he's a good man, and I think you might like him if you gave him a proper chance. It would mean a lot to me." 

"I..." Alisaie blew some air between her bangs. "I can hardly refuse if you're going to put it that way, can I?" she sighed. "I just don't understand why you would want to involve yourself someone like that. All the... posturing and roundabout speaking. Whatever is wrong with simply saying what you mean?" 

Alexandria shook her head. "All the better. Let him handle charming the room so I don't have to. I just need to know where to point my lance." 

That pulled a small laugh from Alisaie. She seemed to be feeling a bit better now, which was good. Alexandria was uncertain what she'd do if she'd remained angry. They talked for a fair bit more, and after a while, Alisaie was content to follow her back to the Rising Stones... Where it would seem they had a guest. 

"... Aymeric?" This was... surprising, to say the least. 

"I was on business in the area," he explained, "and the temptation proved far too great. I do hope I've not interrupted anything." 

She shook her head. "Honestly, did we not just see each other this morning? Though I suppose this makes up for me barging into your office unannounced the other day." However, in spite of her scolding, it was clear from her expression that she was overjoyed to see him. 

"Ah, the honeymoon phase," Thancred sighed, tone wistful. Alexandria shot him a withering look. 

Aymeric either did not notice the comment, or simply moved to ignore it, instead lifting a parcel in his hands--a bouquet of oldroses. "For you," he offered. "I know how much you love flowers." 

"I..." She did not recall mentioning such a thing, though mayhap it was rather obvious from the way she always wore them in her hair. She accepted them into her arms, slowly inhaling the sweet scent. "You are ridiculous. But they're lovely, thank you." She wished she could... kiss him or something. If they only did not have an audience.... Though she did have an idea. "Since you're already here, mayhap some tea before you return?" 

He was surprised by the offer, but his expression was replaced with a warm smile. "I believe I can make the time," he nodded. 

"I'm glad. Alisaie, would you like to join us?" she asked. 

Alisaie sputtered at the question. "That's..." After a moment, she exhaled, a sigh of defeat. "... Oh, alright." 

There. Much as she knew she was meddling, Alexandria couldn't help but feel this was for the best, in the long run. She knew Alisaie was going to be frustrated with her for pushing, but ... She didn't want to see one of her closest friends resent her relationship. She set her flowers aside for safekeeping, and accompanied them both to the little cafe above the House of Splendors. 

Alexandria and Aymeric linked fingers atop the table, and Alisaie, still wanting to escape, could not help but ask, "Are you sure I won't be in the way? Mayhap you'd prefer you alone time or... something." It was not a false modesty, but rather a beg for escape. 

"Not at all," Aymeric told her. "Tea tastes better in good company, does it not?" 

He was the picture of grace, and Alexandria cringed inwardly. Such a line would have been at home with Alphinaud, but she knew such platitudes would hit a sour note with his sister. How to push things away from small talk...? Mayhap if she witnessed his natural propensity for honesty, she might warm to him somewhat. Hm. 

"... It's been a while," Alexandria mused. "The three of us were last together in our talks with Varis." 

"Don't remind me," Alisaie groaned. "What a disaster." 

Aymeric chuckled. "I'm inclined to agree. I spend the better parts of my days arguing of late, and yet... No amount of petty struggles can compare to the anger I felt that day." 

"You and me both," Alisaie agreed. "Gods, I never want to play at politics again." 

"I can sympathize far more than you know," Aymeric told her. It might have seemed empty words, did he not suddenly seem somewhat tired. "Still, I can but do what I am able. I only hope it proves to be enough." 

It seemed to break the ice well enough. They were able to proceed into more normal conversation, with Alisaie looking less and less like she resented it. Though eventually they veered onto a rather odd subject. 

"Can I ask you a personal question?" Aymeric asked Alexandria. She nodded, and he continued. "Your name... it's quite Elezen, is it not?" 

This caused Alisaie's eyes to narrow, as though she was waiting for Aymeric so misstep. But while Alexandria understood the concern for such a potentially sensitive subject, it was not a question she minded answering, or at least, not among friends. Still... "How much do you know of my people?" she asked. 

"Fair little, I'm afraid," Aymeric answered. "I am aware the Viera live in isolation and excommunicate members who leave, and that men are not typically allowed in the villages, but that is about the extent of my cultural knowledge." 

Alexandria nodded. That was enough to explain. "Well... Alexandria is not my original name," she explained. "It's the excommunication you mentioned. Seeing that I can never set foot in my village again, I wanted to cut all ties to it. And so, when I came to Gridania, I chose a new name and an Eorzean patron deity. It was to help me move on." 

"...I see." He gave her hand a small squeeze. "I apologize if I've made you recall something painful." 

She shook her head. "Not at all. I felt more liberated to leave than sad. I don't know.... I've nothing against the lifestyle of my people, but it's not for me. I much prefer the bustle of city-states. If I had to go back, I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat." 

"Mayhap you can tell me about it someday," Aymeric mused, not wanting to press further than he was welcome. 

In truth, Alexandria usually found this subject quite bothersome. It was frustrating having to explain the life she had abandoned, or to mitigate all the misconceptions it could cause about her, and after a while, she'd began to refuse outright. Sometimes she even pretended to be from Gridania, in spite of how obvious it was that was not the case. Though for Aymeric, she did not mind at all, somehow. "... Someday," she responded. "I've never really told anyone about it, but... I'd like you of all people to know." 

It created a certain air between them, and Alisaie could not help but look away. "We already know who you are," she murmured. "Why tell tales you want left forgotten?" 

That was difficult to explain. Yet it seemed Aymeric already had an inkling, and could offer the words she herself could not. "One does not always have the luxury," he explained. "That which we attempt to leave behind has still had a hand in shaping us, like as not." 

"Hmm." Alisaie did not seem to agree with this perspective, but it seemed one she respected enough to mollify her. 

It was good to see them getting along. She was certain that with more time, Aymeric might win Alisaie over, or at least help her see that her reservations about him shaping her into a docile housewife were far from the truth. And yet... She wondered why those words yet lingered with her so. She tried to push them out of mind, but too late, it would seem. Her companions had already picked up on the shift in her mood. 

"Alexandria?" Alisaie asked her. "Are you alright?" 

"Oh, I..." She shook her head. "It's nothing." 

Aymeric and Alisaie exchanged a glance. It was quite obvious that something was amiss, especially with such a poor deflection. Aymeric began to stroke her hand with his thumb. "You are among friends," he reminded her gently. "You carry far too much on your own as it is." 

She was silent for a while. She turned somewhat, moving to look Aymeric in the eyes. "Do you wonder if... Mayhap we haven't thought this through?" 

"... How do you mean?" he asked her carefully. 

"It's just... I wonder if I'm being selfish. Mayhap you deserve someone who can be by your side to support you and help you solve problems, rather than someone you'll barely be able to see, traipsing about the world all the time. And I'll certainly never be able to give you a family." 

Both of her companions were quite stunned by this outburst. Yet Aymeric's face smoothed back into calm almost as quickly, and he took a small sip of tea. "Is that before or after I fell in love with you?" he asked quite evenly. Alexandria's jaw worked--she did not know how to respond. 

"I am not certain what's brought this on," Aymeric continued, "but I can assure you that what you're saying is not the case. Your courage and selflessness are my inspiration, and though there are times I fear you take on too much for your own good, neither would I ask you to stop. I can only remind you that I'm here for you, whensoever you need. As for the matter of family... I could not ask you to do such a thing for me. Though perhaps that is a discussion for another time. It's rather early to be making such considerations, is it not?" 

"I... suppose it is," she nodded slowly. "But you're really alright with all this?" 

"I might remind you that my closest friend is Estinien," Aymeric chuckled. "I do not mind distance. This is not to say I imagine it will not be difficult... But you are more than worth it." 

"Alright." Alexandria let out a slow exhale in relief. "Thank you. I... think you're worth it, too. I finally feel like I have something to return to." 

"Don't forget about us," Alisaie pointed out. "The Scions are your family, too. As for you," she gave Aymeric a critical look. "Watch yourself. If you hurt her, you're going to regret it." 

"If I did, my regrets would be far greater than anything you could exact upon me, I assure you," he quipped. Though he seemed to rather mean those words. "Though I believe I should be getting back. Are you going to be alright, Alexandria?" 

"I am," she nodded. "I don't know what came over me. I'm sorry." 

"There is naught to apologize for." He squeezed her into a hug, and she melted into it, savoring in his warmth. "I'll see you at the memorial. And a pleasure seeing you again, Mistress Alisaie." 

From there, they all parted ways. Alexandria had grown quiet again, but it was a different kind of quiet. Once where she kept turning all the words Aymeric had spoken in her head. She couldn't shake them, warm and sincere as they been. 

"Alexandria!" Alisaie called out from behind her. They were almost to the entrance of the bar now, and Alexandria stopped to face her. "I... I'm sorry," Alisaie murmured. "Those things I said earlier... That's not what I meant. I didn't mean for you to doubt yourself. I just... You're the strongest woman I know, and the thought of you ever stopping is too much to bear." 

"I know, Alisaie," she responded softly. "It's alright. How about next time we have another girl's day? You, me, Y'shtola, and Lyse." She smiled, though a look of consternation suddenly took hold. "Lyse," she repeated. "Dear gods, I need to contact Lyse! If she finds out what I've been up to before I tell her, she's going to kill me." 

"Try to, at least," Alisaie agreed with a laugh.  
  
❦❦❦ 

As all things, Alexandria's small break soon needed to come to an end. It was a small gathering; Edmont, Artoirel, and Emmanellain. Alexandria and Aymeric. They looked out over the horizon, toward the towering spires of Ishgard. His final resting place, where he could continue to watch over them all. They rested flowers on his grave, all offering silent prayers. Alexandria could but guess what the others had to say, but as she knelt in front of his tombstone, the words in her heart were simple ones. 

_Thank you, old friend._

For so many things. Once all was said and done, she did something long overdue--damned propriety and pulled Edmont into a hug. Artoirel and Emmanellain, too. Her second family. 

"I'm going to miss all of you," she said quietly. 

"Do try and write from time to time," Edmont told her, and she nodded. 

The three of House Fortemps began to trek back towards Ishgard, leaving only her and Aymeric. 

"I'm proud of you for coming here," she offered, voice soft. "I know it was difficult." 

"I must needs learn to move on if I'm to honor his sacrifice," Aymeric responded quietly. "Though I was loathe to show Lord Edmont my face at such an event." 

"I know." She reached for his hand, and squeezed. "I suppose it's going to be more difficult to see you from now on. Duty calls." 

"So it is," Aymeric agreed. "But I do not mind the wait. I love you, Alexandria." 

"... I love you, Aymeric." 

She drew him close, letting their lips lock. Happiness flooded through her, and in spite of the hardships that were sure to be ahead, she could feel nothing but a sense of hope. ... He must have been smiling on them. Wishing them well on the path ahead. Even in parting, she still felt he could light the way. 

_Thank you,_ she repeated in her heart once more.


End file.
